


Half-guessed, Half-seen, Half-heard

by Bright_Elen



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Almost Kiss, Ballroom Dancing, Banter, Don't copy to another site, Dresses, Empire Day, F/M, Force-Sensitive Leia Organa, Jewelry, POV Leia Organa, Undercover, Unresolved Sexual Tension, thinly-veiled metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 16:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17901227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Elen/pseuds/Bright_Elen
Summary: Leia had been dreading many things about Empire Day, but she was the Crown Princess, trained in administration and strategy, and she had plans to deal with all of them.Except for making questionable decisions over a handsome Imperial officer. How in the galaxy was she supposed to have planned forthat?





	Half-guessed, Half-seen, Half-heard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome/gifts).



> Happy (belated) Birthday, Mercy! 
> 
> Thanks to [A Kiss of Fire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerDragon/pseuds/A%20Kiss%20of%20Fire) for the beta.

Since she’d come of age and been recognized as the Crown Princess, Leia had taken on many responsibilities: representing Alderaan in the Senate (as if the Galactic Empire was still a representative government), acting as her people’s envoy on diplomatic missions (most of which required her to smile and wave and pretend everything was all right), and managing charitable foundations (which, even if they fed the hungry and housed refugees, couldn’t prevent hunger or keep the Empire from destroying people’s homes in the first place).

But even compared to all of those, her least favorite responsibility was organizing and hosting Alderaan’s mandatory Empire Day celebration. The resources could have been used for so many other, actually _useful_ things, and celebrating oppression made her feel defiled in a way that even her worst failures to fight it never had.

However, it was her duty; she knew that doing it well would keep up the rouse of a compliant, loyal Alderaan, lowering scrutiny and thus freeing them to help the Rebellion. So she planned the nineteenth Empire Day, the first she was entirely in charge of, to the best of her ability, asked for outside assistance when she knew her own disgust would cloud her choices, and spent each evening at the shooting range to vent her anger. Her parents gave her looks that were party sympathy, part pride.

Then the day itself arrived, and Leia spent the morning getting ready: dressing in a white gown, this one of many layers of sheer material that fluttered around her like luminous, yet still modest, clouds; sitting for an hour of makeup for an effortlessly flawless look; supervising the braiding of her hair in one of the most formal styles; and swallowing every last flicker of rage.

The parade was easy, if unpleasant. All she had to do was give a (blessedly short) introduction speech to the Emperor’s holo, and then smile and wave as the Alderaan-stationed Imperial Military marched by. If she focused only on the buildings immediately behind the forces, she didn’t even have to suppress the urge to vomit.

Then there were the award ceremonies for Alderaanians who’d shown particular loyalty and service to the Empire that year. To determine a finalist in each of five categories, she’d compiled a list of people she hated most, praying that her vetting system had correctly identified real loyalists, sent it to Coruscant for approval, and been given the winners with six weeks to spare. It had taken her most of that time to write a few words of praise for each one that she was reasonably certain she could speak without choking. Thankfully, her preparations paid off, and she delivered the medals without a hitch.

Then she changed her braids and dress (a gold and emerald brocade robe over a soft jade underdress), took ten minutes to swear a blue streak in C-3PO's direction, and then went down to dinner honoring the same five loyalists, the sector Moff, and the local military brass. She made her third speech of the day and then endured a farce of conversation with the most honored guests, though they enjoyed the sounds of their own voices enough that she got away with only the occasional question or bit of empty flattery.

She never had much of an appetite on Empire Day, but this year she only managed to swallow a bite or two from each course.

Then her third and final dress of the day, her third hairstyle, and the ball, where she would be expected to make yet another speech and circulate among the guests, acting as though she loved the thing she’d dedicated herself to destroying. She’d be lucky if she made it through the night without developing an ulcer.

When Leia entered the ballroom, all eyes were on her. This dress was a relatively simple piece: figure-skimming, luminous red silk, open sleeves flowing dramatically to the floor like a split cape. Of course, its simplicity was designed to highlight the intricacy of her jewelry: at her throat was a collar of diamonds shaped into flowers of varying sizes, which transitioned seamlessly into a chain of more jeweled blossoms and filigree vines following the line of her sternum. Below that, the piece attached to a near-seamless chain of smooth, shining, diamond-studded star-silver that coiled gracefully around Leia’s hips.

Matching vines and flowers coiled around her arms from bicep to wrist. Her hair, swept up in a braided crown with one tail hanging down her back, was heavy with more diamonds, these shaped like the tiny flickering birds that fed on the nectar of flowers. It was an excessive display of wealth and beauty, just how the Empire liked it.

And they did like it. Though it made her skin crawl to see naked lust in the eyes of men three times her age, it was the intended effect; the more attention they were paying to her body, the less they’d have to spare for any breeches in protocol she might make. She wasn’t planning on any, of course, but four intense performances in a day were taxing, even for a princess.

Her last speech of the evening was received with polite applause, and then the ball officially began. Leia greeted the guests in the appropriate order, with remarks that she’d carefully prepared ahead of time but delivered as though they were extemporaneous, and had just finished with the ones worthy of the Princess’s personal attention when she noticed Moff Sibar drifting back towards her.

It was impressive, how he managed to turn a stroll into a show of dominance.

The music changed into a waltz, and Sibar got an unfortunately familiar glint in his eyes. He was about to ask Leia to dance, and she absolutely couldn’t refuse him without it being a snub.

More urgently, she absolutely couldn’t abide that man’s hands on her person.

In the seconds before the Moff made it close enough to speak to her, Leia spotted a young man in uniform. If she had to dance with an Imperial to keep up appearances, she’d much rather have someone close to her own age. Someone of low enough rank to be easily intimidated.

She excused herself from her immediate company and glided over to her target. She smiled brightly at him, expression belying the command in her voice. “You asked me to dance, I was charmed by your boldness. I hope you know how to waltz.”

The lieutenant blinked in startlement, but then looked back to where Leia had come from, and back down at her with a guarded look. “I...know the basic steps.”

“Good enough.”

The lieutenant gave her a precise bow and offered his hand. Leia stepped closer, delicately laid her palm atop his, and put the other on his shoulder. The lieutenant stepped closer still, to reach under Leia’s sleeve and cup her shoulder blade in one hand, and then he was using those two points of contact to telegraph where he wanted her to go.

They began the dance in silence, using the first several cycles to adjust to each other’s rhythm.

“I very much enjoyed your speeches today, Your Highness.”

Leia couldn’t decide if she was glad all her toil and revulsion had paid off in a high-quality deception, or if the Imp was just adding insult to injury, so there was the slightest edge to her voice when she answered.

“Thank you, Lieutenant…”

“Sward.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Sward. For the compliment and the dance.”

The corner of the Lieutenant’s mouth ticked upwards by a hair. “I didn’t think I’d get to rescue a Princess tonight.”

Something about the way he said it — the smile lines around his eyes? The gentle mockery that somehow felt intimate rather than offensive? — made Leia feel warm towards him.

 _That_ was unacceptable. “Don’t get any ideas.”

His face closed back down to Imperial standard. “Of course not, Your Highness.”

They waltzed a few more steps in silence, Leia still annoyed at the unfairness of  her reaction to the man, when he spoke again. “That’s a lovely jewelry piece. Does it have a story?”

It was a peace offering, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to take it. “Just that I love ulibri birds.”

He nodded, and shifted the pressure on her back to change course again. “They are very delicate and beautiful.”

If Leia had planted a tree for every time someone called her ‘delicate’ or ‘beautiful’ — and she wasn’t fooled, he wasn’t just talking about her jewelry — there would be significantly less carbon in Alderaan’s atmosphere. She was sick of delicate and beautiful.

“That’s not why I love them.”

Another set of steps, and Leia realized that he’d steered them farther away from Sibar, who’d moved across the ballroom. She couldn’t tell if Sward had done that on purpose.

“Oh?” he asked, expression suspiciously bland.

“No. I love them because they’re delicate, beautiful, and fierce.” Leia could still see the Moff out of the corner of her eye. Both for his benefit (and to make her next statement to Sward all the more disconcerting), she put on a brilliant smile. “They defend their territory from strange ulibri, sometimes so aggressively that they impale each other on their beaks.”

“I had no idea,” Sward said, lips curved upwards, eyes crinkling, “that the princess of a pacifist world would be so bloodthirsty.”

Leia kept her surprise off her face, but her feet faltered just enough that Sward noticed and compensated.

She cursed herself. Somehow, she’d chosen a partner who really was bold enough to have asked a Princess to dance. And one with rich brown eyes that sparkled when he was amused, steady hands that were feeling warmer and warmer against her body, and a voice that, even in a textbook Core accent, was just rough enough around the edges to be interesting.

Kriff.

What had gotten into her? Had someone somehow bypassed all the numerous layers of security to put drugs in her wine, to make her attracted to an Imp?

She swayed through another cycle of steps, thinking. There weren’t any substances she knew of — and her education on things people might want to slip a Princess was depressingly thorough — that would have those effects and no others.

And if it wasn’t outside interference, could it be that strange sense of hers that could judge character by the smallest interactions? The one that was, somehow, never wrong, the one currently telling her that Sward was worth her interest?

She decided to trust herself.

“It’s not bloodthirst.” If he was going to be bold, so would she, so she let him see her anger at everything she couldn’t change. “It’s the will to protect.”

Sward didn’t flinch, though his brows came minutely together — anger, or concern?

His eyes flickered over her head to scan the room. “I’m sure they’re effective against certain opponents, but they must be careful.” As they moved together, Leia’s sleeves swirling around her, his eyes came back down to hers. “I’ve visited a rainforest where ulibri live. Seen the flowers,” he glanced at the diamonds at Leia’s throat, “they drink nectar from. And I know that in the undergrowth underneath,” he said, and made sure she was watching before he glanced to Sibar, the elite Imperial Guards sent to ‘honor’ the Organas, and the nearest General, “vipers hide and wait to eat them. Aggression and a needle-sharp beak can only protect a bird from so much.”

It _had_ been concern on his face, and she had been sensing something different about him from the start. She didn’t know how or why, but he wasn’t a normal Imperial. He looked at those men the way most people looked at actual snakes.

Was he a malcontent ripe for defection? Leia’s heart beat fast, and she tried to breathe evenly and attend to the conversation. “I know,” she said slowly, leaning back, canting her hips, and nodding at her belt. “I admire the strength and cunning of snakes, too.”

Sward glanced down to her waist, and because she was waiting for it, she saw him realize that the belt’s sinewy length was made to look like intertwining serpents.

When he looked back up at her, disbelief warred with admiration on his face. “You’re full of surprises, Your Highness.”

His face and voice sent a thrill up Leia’s spine. “You have no idea,” she said, her tone was far more inviting than was wise. Not that recognizing that was going to hold her back. “Shall I surprise you again?”

Sward frowned, glanced around sharply, and steered her from the center of the crowd.

“Meet me alone,” she said, watching his expression harden. If she was going to be hanged for a calf, might as well take a whole bantha while she was at it. “By the fountain in the Eastern Garden in half an hour.” Long enough that they wouldn't be seen leaving together. Not so long, nor so secluded, that he couldn’t explain his presence.

“Even on Alderaan,” Sward said, words clipped — and was that some hint of another accent slipping through? Stars, she wanted to know more — and leaned in closer, hands tightening on her, eyes intense, “ulibri aren’t completely safe.”

“Nowhere is completely safe.”

He was so close she could feel his body heat on her exposed collar bones. “All the more reason not to take chances.”

The song drew to a close, Leia and Lieutenant Sward drifting to stillness with the rest of the dancers. Neither of them moved back from their overly close positioning, and Leia couldn’t take her eyes off his face — eyes, nose, jaw.

Lips.

Her gaze flew from his mouth, and she found him staring at her with no less intensity than what she felt.

Flushing, Leia inclined her head, cleared her throat. “Thank you for the dance, Lieutenant.”

“The pleasure and honor were mine, Your Highness.” Sward maybe fooled everyone else with his smooth politeness, but his eyes burned over her hand as he placed a kiss to her gloved knuckles. Then he bowed, and Leia turned to find another guest whose attention would keep Sibar away. When she turned back a few minutes later, Sward was gone.

He could have been going to the garden, or could be on an errand for whichever General he was probably an aide to, or could have left the party altogether. The uncertainty buzzed under her breastbone and made her hands tremble.

Just as she’d calculated, Leia had time to bid the important guests good evening, return to her suite, and throw a dark hooded cloak over her dress.

Passing undetected through the halls of the Palace was a skill she’d mastered at the age of nine, and tonight was no different. No one stopped or even noticed her, and soon she was stepping outside into the clear night.

The flowering trees of the Eastern Garden caught the moonlight in their petals, creating a luminous canopy over the curving paths and manicured shrubbery. Leia preferred the wildness of the wooded foothills surrounding Aldera, but the garden was still beautiful.

Walking on the grass to the side of the gravel path, cloak whispering over the dewey ground, Leia made her way to the fountain. It rose from one end of the pond, crystalline streams of water playing among floating blossoms and half-submerged watergrass. Fish with scales like precious gems swam below the surface, and wading birds slept on the shore, heads tucked under wing.

Sward wasn’t there when she arrived, and that disappointment made her feel the weight of the day again. But she knew she hadn’t mistaken the way he’d been looking at her, intense and almost protective. He wanted to see her again. It was just a question of whether or not he’d follow through.

That, Leia wasn’t sure of.

She stood just under the edge of the trees, hidden from view of most of the garden but plainly visible from any part of the bank. She was willing to wait a little.

Not having brought a chrono was a problem she discovered soon after the decision. With no way of knowing what time it was or how long it had been, she wound up pacing and trying to judge when she should leave. To settle her restless mind, she plucked a cluster of flowers from a tree and worked on making it into a crown.

She was halfway done before something made her look up. Sward was standing on the other side of the pond, looking at her, but the moonlight was dim enough, the pond large enough, that she could only tell that much. His expression was a mystery.

Maybe not wanting to spook him was why she didn’t walk around the pond to meet him, only held the flowers close to her chest. Maybe she was having second thoughts about meeting a stranger, alone, at night. It would’ve been sensible to have second thoughts.

Maybe she just wanted someone who owed her no fealty to come to her anyway.

Regardless, she could understand if he wanted more explicit invitation. Flowers still hiding the glint of diamonds peeking from beneath the cloak, she reached her empty hand out towards Sward, palm up.

Sward shifted his weight, and for a moment, Leia thought she was going to get what (she was mostly sure) she wanted. But instead of walking towards her, he slowly raised his own hand to his mouth and pressed his fingertips to his lips.

As understanding and disappointment sank Leia’s heart to her stomach and her arms to her sides, Sward released the kiss to the air across the pond, standing still with hand towards her for a moment. Then he turned and walked back the way he’d come.

Leia remained motionless, watching him go until he turned a corner and disappeared behind the garden wall. She tossed the chain of flowers into the pond, where it bobbed, partially submerged.

She didn’t wait to watch it sink.

**Author's Note:**

> The Hummingbird
> 
>  
> 
> _The sunlight speaks. And its voice is a bird:_  
>  It glitters half-guessed half-seen half-heard  
> Above the flower bed. Over the lawn...  
> A flashing dip and it is gone.  
> And all it lends to the eye is this -  
> A sunbeam giving the air a kiss.
> 
>  
> 
> \- Harry Kemp
> 
>  
> 
> Come say hi at [bright-elen](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bright-elen) on Tumblr.


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